j. and I are going to Toronto for the rest of this week, and won’t be back until Labour Day…
We are packed (mostly) but boy, are we ever a stressed out pair.
I’ve got deadlines for work nipping at my ankles, so I am taking work with me. We even got a nifty car charger for my Mac so I could work during the drive to the Big Smoke. If that doesn’t stress you to read what I am doing to meet my deadlines, then maybe you should take my job :)
j. is so deliriously tired he just walked in to ask, “Is there anything else I was going to do tonight?”
I don’t know the full story, but I will hear it on the car ride. Apparently work has been stressful and exhausting for him the past week or so. It certainly can’t help that I am losing my grip on things and holed up trying to get things done every spare minute I have.
To top it off this evening has been less than fun. I spilled a whole glass of limeade all over the coffee table, carpet and sofa right as I was putting down the leftovers I had heated up to eat. j. decided to go with a frozen pizza for dinner, and that’s exactly when the oven decided to stop working (he cooked it up in batches in the toaster oven instead and then kicked himself for not thinking of putting the pizza on the bbq). j. called to fill in the landlord on the status of our not-so-hot oven. And then while I had a minor freak out about something at work and made a few quick phone calls to get it straightened out, there was confusion about whether the landlord had keys to get into our apartment to inspect the oven while we are gone. And somehow that confusion lead to me asking whether j. had told the landlord we had replaced the shower head and sent him a rent cheque with the receipt. He looked at me blankly when he realized he hadn’t. To top it off, j. still hadn’t gotten to the part of the evening where he was going to buzz his hair and vacuum up the mounds of dog hair (we dog sat Quita, our former upstairs neighbours’ fluffy and shedding dog this weekend) we were wading in. He got to these last parts of his to do list about 9 pm, only 2.5 hours after we got home.
Now, after a hair cut and sweating to the oldies as he vacuumed, he has taken a shower and looks a little more refreshed and put together. I should be working but took a break to back up my hard drive and wonder about the wedding planning we will do in Toronto and also, how does someone stop feeling so discombobulated (sp?)?
At least j. realized, oops he hadn’t packed any boxers yet. And we both agree maybe the outcome of this strange and terrible stressed out night may be that we’ll come home to a new stove after Labour Day weekend.
